


She Is

by vogue91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Introspection, Marriage, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 17:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13745913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: Bellatrix is only one, but they all have different takes on who she actually is.





	She Is

_ She’s Cruel _

Feral.

That’s how I would’ve described her.

I would’ve said she was magnificent, and that her splendour had gotten destroyed by madness. That there had been a time when I wanted to be like her, and that I had to wake up from that daydream, and seeing that my sister was poisonous.

Poisonous for us being close to her, and poisonous to herself.

I don’t know, or I pretend not to now, what actually happened to her.

The only thing I know is that Bella lays dead into the corrupted soul of a servant of darkness, and that I lost a sister in exchange for a tempting snake.

 

_ She’s a Dreamer _

Dreamer.

No one would’ve said that, but deeply I always knew that my sister was like that, perhaps much more than me.

She dreamt of power, of dominion... and she dreamt of a passion so unhealthy and lethal to devastate her, and  I know in the end she reached her goal.

But at what price, Bellatrix?

At the price of your ideas, at the price of your freedom.

At the price of those dreams, granted and then forgotten. You’re in chains, and you like it.

You blamed me so many times, but I can’t do the same. I can only feel an immense pity for you.

 

_ She’s Untamed _

Untamed.

Even though I tried and lost, that woman has never had a cage around her.

Not even in Azkaban, where the hours of darkness always seemed the longest and the walls too narrow... she was never tamed.

Not by my screams, not by my silences. Nor by my comprehension, nor by my despise.

I put a ring on her finger, but she never felt its weight.

I’ve felt her slipping away from me and I realised she never really belonged to me. I deluded myself, thinking that her presence meant I owned her.

But she was His, of the Lord who had finally bridled her.

 

_ She’s Mine _

Mine.

Mine, as I wanted her to be, mine because she wanted it, even though she never really had a choice.

Slave, and woman when I allowed her to be. Because she would’ve forgotten her very own essence for me, she would’ve devoted herself to my will if I had asked.

And what has always made her unique, was that I never needed to.

She’s always been the one to give, to give herself, without needing a word from me, as if she understood my every desire, like I could with her.

Instinct, unfiltered. But useful, and much pleasant.

The best. Always.


End file.
